Retribution_ The Battle for Japan, 1944-45 - Max Hastings [100]
Yamato and Nagato were also slightly hit. The heavy cruiser Myoko was obliged to turn for home with shaft damage. At 1930, the 67,123-ton behemoth Musashi, each of its main turrets heavier than a destroyer, the huge gold imperial chrysanthemum still adorning its prow, rolled over and sank. Some 984 of its 2,287 crew perished—it was four hours before Japanese escorts addressed themselves to seeking survivors. Ugaki afterwards composed a haiku about the death of Musashi’s captain, Rear-Admiral Toshihira Inoguchi. This ended winsomely: “Who can read the heart274 of an admiral brooding?” The weather—“Fair”—was the only aspect of 24 October about which Ugaki could bring himself to comment favourably in his diary. On this, “the first day of the decisive battle,” he lamented how few American planes had been shot down. Anti-aircraft fire from Kurita’s ships had accounted for only eighteen attackers. Inoguchi’s last testament, scribbled as his ship foundered, recorded regret that he and his comrades had placed exaggerated faith in big ships and big guns.
Yet given the fact that Halsey’s aircraft had been able to strike all day without interference from Japanese fighters, the results were far less comprehensive than the Americans might have expected, and than their pilots claimed. Halsey wrote after the war: “The most conspicuous lesson learnt from this action is the practical difficulty of crippling by air strikes alone a task force of heavy ships at sea and free to maneuver.” This is wholly unconvincing. Far more relevant was the fact that the American fliers started their battle tired, desperately tired, after days of intensive action. The carrier Bunker Hill had already been detached to Ulithi because of the exhaustion of its air group, and other ships’ pilots were in little better case. Fatigue diminished accuracy. A Hellcat commander, Lamade of Hancock, was especially critical of the Helldivers’ performance during this period: “The dive-bombers are not hitting275 what they’re aiming at—I don’t think they’re aiming at all.” An analysis of one air group’s operations on 24 October concluded: “Too many targets were attacked276 scattering light damage to many ships…radio discipline must be improved.” That day, only around 45 of 259 U.S. strike aircraft achieved hits. This fell far short of the best performances by carrier pilots in the autumn of 1944. Despite the sinking of Musashi, American sorties on 24 October were relatively unsuccessful.
Yet they were enough to shake Kurita. At 1400 that afternoon, the Japanese force reversed course away from the San Bernardino Strait. The admiral signalled to naval headquarters: “It is…considered advisable to retire temporarily beyond range of enemy air attack, and resume our operation when the actions of [other] friendly units permit.” Whatever Kurita did thereafter, his force could no longer achieve its scheduled dawn rendezvous off Leyte Gulf with the southern Japanese squadron. Ashore, the Japanese mood was already grim. One of the day’s luckier men was Maj. Shoji Takahashi in Manila. When the Shogo squadrons sailed, the navy requested the presence of an army liaison officer, to sail aboard Musashi. Takahashi volunteered. He thought the trip sounded rather fun. That night, when South Asia Area Army learned that the great battleship and many of her crew lay on the sea bottom, the intelligence officer’s colonel wagged a grim finger at him: “Lucky I wouldn’t let you go277, isn’t it?” Admiral Halsey, hearing his pilots’ reports, was convinced that Third Fleet had achieved a decisive victory, that Kurita’s force was broken and in retreat.
NISHIMURA’S “C” Force, comprising two